The Prodigal
by zephiey
Summary: On Hiatus- Nick returns as a prodigal son but whose forgiveness is he really looking for?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **The characters contained in this work are not mine. They belong to their respective copyrighted owners. No infringement of any sort is intended. This work is for personal enjoyment only.

**Rating: **M

**Author: **zephiey

**The Prodigal**

**Prologue:**

Standing outside he stared up at the night sky wondering. Bringing the cheroot to his lips he took another puff from it, turning it he stared at the glowing tip. Hearing the door open behind him he felt her hand come to rest on his arm. Covering her hand with his he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. They seemed to find themselves in this same position every night, staring at the stars and wondering.

"You know it's been a year. A year since he has been gone," he said.

"Yes, I know," she answered.

"I miss him Mother. Everyday I ride out hoping that I will see him ride over the hill, coming home. How long will he stay away? How long will it be before he comes home? " he asked his voice gruff with emotion.

"I don't know," his mother answered, her voice filled with unshed tears. "I don't know."

Taking her in his arms he held her, his head resting on hers. Pulling back he looked down into her face wiping the tears from her eyes. Placing his arm around her shoulders he turned escorting her back into the house.

"I just have to believe he'll return Heath," she murmured.

Squeezing her shoulder in answer Heath walked back inside, praying silently that she was right.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Walking out of the bank, Heath placed the deposit slip in his wallet. He would have to sit down this evening and balance the books before the upcoming auction but right now he needed a beer. The best place for that was the saloon. Walking through the doors he returned the greetings of the other men before ordering a beer and taking it to the table. Placing his hat on the table, Heath ran his hand through his hair, taking a long pull from his beer. Closing his eyes at the cool pleasure he relaxed.

It had been a long hard week but after all the hard work, they were almost ready for winter. The fences had been mended, the winterfeed harvested, the last of the summer fruit crops picked and the nuts almost harvested. The next few weeks would put the final touches on the winter preparations. The men would be able to relax and take time off. As he sat going over all the things that still needed to be done he absently noticed the two tall men that had entered the saloon. Not an unusual occurrence, but there was something about the second one that seemed familiar. Heath watched the two men sit at a table in the far corner, their backs against the wall. Heath had seen many a man who lived by the gun take the same position.

Accepting another beer from the waitress, Heath could not shake the feeling that he knew one of them from somewhere. The larger of the two men ordered whiskey. In fact, he bellowed it so loud that for a moment he reminded Heath of how Nick would shout at the top of his lungs. He wished he knew where his older brother was, but in the year and half since he had rode from the ranch they had not received any word from him.

Looking over at the door Heath noticed another stranger enter the saloon. The way he wore his gun, how he moved, how his eyes took in everything told Heath that this man was a hired killer. As he watched he saw him approach the table of the two strangers throwing something onto the tabletop. The one man placed a restraining hand on the big bear of a man, standing slowly. He was too far away to hear the soft-spoken conversation but he saw the killer's hand flex in answer to it. Heath stared in disbelief as the tall one tipped his hat back off his head, his face coming into view. He watched as the killer drew his gun but the other man was faster, putting a hole in the chest of the killer. The tall man took whatever had been thrown onto the tabletop and tossed it onto the killer's dead body. The tall man gulped the last of his whiskey, dropped some coins on the table, and walked out. The big bear of a man reached down removing something from the dead man's shirt pocket before standing, turning and following the other man outside. Heath caught a glimpse of the two as they rode down the street. Raising his beer to his lips, Heath's hand shook as he remembered the face that he had just seen, his brother Nick!

"Nick! Dammit Nick, wait," shouted Connor as he galloped after the cowboy. Pulling up next to Satan, Connor looked at the man he had come to know over the last year. "What the hell is the hurry? One minute we're riding slow and the next you're riding as if the hounds of hell were after you. Now what is going on? I thought this was your home?"

At the mention of home Nick pulled Satan up hard. "I have no home," Nick ground out. "Now, are we riding or are you going to sit here all day?" Spurring Satan on Nick did not wait for an answer from the large man.

Shaking his head at the stubbornness of his friend Connor followed him knowing eventually Nick would tell him what was wrong. Of course, Connor thought, with Nick that could be tonight, tomorrow or next week. One thing his friend was not was talkative. In fact, for such a large man Nick was perhaps the quietest man he had ever met. His voice never rose above a normal tone. He knew that he had a formidable temper but even at its worse Nick never raised his voice. If it were possible he got even quieter. Connor knew Nick probably better than anyone did. He knew that he had grown up on a ranch in this valley, that he had three brothers and a sister. That his father had been killed and his mother was still alive. He knew that his family was extremely important to him but what Connor didn't know was why he felt he had to leave.

He knew Nick was not a coward or a wanted man. 'Kind of hard to be either when you are a Ranger even if they weren't Rangers by choice,' thought Connor.

What Nick Barkley was though was a haunted man. Something had driven him from his home and family, Connor had pieced together some of what had happened from Nick's fevered ramblings a few months back but he still didn't know the whole story. Maybe he never would but he owed Nick Barkley his life and whether Nick liked it or not he was going to help his friend bury whatever ghosts haunted him.

Watching his friend through the firelight Connor shook his head at the pure stubbornness of him. They had set camp next to a nice stream. After bedding down the horses and catching dinner the men relaxed around the fire. If anyone tried to enter camp the third member of their party would alert them. Connor ran his hand through the thick fur of Dog still amazed at the almost unnatural rapport that Nick had with him. When they had discovered him months back Dog was starving, half-wild and injured. Connor had thought that it would be best to put the animal out of his misery but Nick soothed, cajoled and nursed the animal back to health. Since that time Dog had become an integral part of their team. He had saved their lives a few times when Connor was sure that they were dead.

"We'll stop by the grave tomorrow then we will head up to the high country to find Simmons," Nick said. "Get some sleep. Dog will let us know if we have any visitors. Right, Dog?"

Dog raised his head, cocking it to the side as if in agreement.

"Ok Nick," answered Connor, tossing the remains of his coffee away. Tipping his hat to cover his face Connor fell asleep.

Riding along, Connor noticed that Nick was quieter than usual. As they approached the gravesite Connor watched as Nick dismounted. Letting Satan stand Nick walked the last few feet to the grave. Dismounting, Connor took Satan's and Thunder's reins securing them to a tree limb. Following Nick to the gravesite he stood back as he watched his friend pay his respects to his father. The growl from Dog and the answering whinny from their horses announced the arrival of someone else. Connor looked up to see a silver haired woman dismount from a dappled mare. He watched as she walked toward them, Dog continuing to growl a warning. At Nick's soft command Dog quieted. Connor watched as she came closer, obviously not recognizing them.

"This is private property," Connor heard her say.

"We were just paying our respects, 'mam," Connor answered smiling. "Connor Owens 'mam," holding his hand out.

Taking his hand she answered, "Victoria Barkley."

"This is your husband then 'mam?"

"Yes, Mr. Owens. My husband was killed nine years ago in a dispute with the railroad. He left myself, four sons, and a daughter."

"I'm sorry 'mam," Connor offered his condolences. "Four sons, you say? All good men?"

"Yes, I like to think so," answered Victoria. "My eldest Jarrod is a lawyer. Heath manages the ranch. Eugene is finishing his studies to be a doctor. And Audra, my daughter enjoys being the only girl."

"You said four sons 'mam, but you only mentioned three," Connor observed.

"My second oldest Nicholas left over a year ago. We have had no word from him. I am not sure if he is alive or not," Victoria said softly.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Barkley, I did not mean to upset you," Connor apologized. "My friend and I will take our leave of you. Thank you." Turning to Nick Connor asked, "Coming?"

Nodding his head Nick called softly to Dog, walking away from his father's grave and his mother's side. Watching the men walk away Victoria couldn't shake the feeling that she knew the other man, his walk, size and his bearing somehow familiar. Watching him swing into the saddle, his face visible for a moment Victoria clutched the headstone of her husband's grave. It was Nick and he was alive!


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The weeks that followed were hard, tough weeks. Simmons had disappeared into the high country of the Sierra Nevadas. Dotted with small towns, the high country did not take kindly to lawmen asking questions or to lawmen in general. The people here figured life was hard enough to survive without borrowing trouble, even if that trouble was the law.

Entering another small town Connor's neck tingled. Seeing Nick look around he noticed that he felt it too; the feeling that their prey was close. Making a few inquiries they learned that Simmons was here and staying over at the hotel/saloon. Deciding that it would be better to surprise him rather than wait for him to make an appearance they entered the hotel.

Turning the guest book around Connor flashed the number five at Nick. Taking the stairs two at a time they found the room. Kicking in the door, Simmons never had time to react before he was disarmed and handcuffed.

Escorting Simmons into the courtroom in San Francisco, Nick turned him over to the Federal Judge. After filling out all the paperwork, Nick and Connor turned to leave. Walking down the stairs Nick listened to Connor, absently paying attention to where he was going. Walking into the oncoming path of another man Nick found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes. Not moving an inch he stood there as the blue eyes took in ever one of the beloved features. Blue eyes continued to stare into the hazel ones neither man speaking a word. Breaking eye contact Nick whispered Jarrod and continued down the stairs.

Jarring himself out of his shock Jarrod turned to follow his younger brother, questions filling his mind. Looking around Jarrod was unable to see him. Pushing his way through the throng of people coming up the stairs he fought his way down and out of the building. Rushing through the courthouse doors Jarrod caught a glimpse of his brother.

"Nick," Jarrod shouted, sure he could hear him over the bustle of the city. For just a split second Jarrod was sure that Nick was going to turn around but he mounted up and rode away. Jarrod felt the elation at seeing Nick give way to sorrow. Sitting down on the stone steps of the Federal Courthouse building Jarrod buried his head in his hands.

Connor was angry; angrier than he had been in his 56 years of life. Nick refused to talk about the meetings with his family. Instead he retreated into stony silence, talking only when an answer was required. Connor had known many stubborn men in his life, himself included. Hell, he was so stubborn that his Maggie used to say that a mule could take lessons from him! His Maggie was a beautiful woman, strong, vibrant and loving. Connor still missed her even after all these years. After losing her and his son to fever he had sold all his holdings and drifted with the seasons. Meeting Nick was a godsend and at this moment a curse. Boy was he a curse!

And beyond stubborn!

He was pig-headed!

Mulish and headstrong!

Connor tossed the remains of his coffee into the fire.

"Dammit Nick, talk to me," Connor bellowed.

"What would you like to talk about?" Nick asked softly.

"Boy, you know what I want to talk about!" Connor answered his anger rising.

"There is nothing to talk about," Nick answered, his voice even softer.

Connor stood, his massive hands clenched at his side, his temper exploding, "Nothing to talk about! You walk away from your brother in the courthouse! You ignore your mother at your father's gravesite and you leave town without even acknowledging Heath!"

Nick's head shot up at the mention of his younger brother's name.

"And to top it all off your walking around quieter than a churchmouse and I don't like it!"

"Well, I'll try to make more noise then," Nick answered, sarcastically.

Grabbing Nick by his shirtfront Connor hauled him to his feet. "Boy don't get smart with me or I'll.."

"You'll what, old man? Beat me? You're not my father…not even my brother. And that would be the only way I would let you beat me," Nick ground out, his words soft and measured.

Looking into the eyes of the man that had come to mean as much to him as a son Connor let him go answering.

"No, I am not your father or brother but I am your friend. You've got to talk about this Nick before it eats you alive completely. And that is just what it is doing, eating you alive." Sighing Connor lay down, turning away from Nick he added, "I'll be waiting."

Nick sipped at his coffee as he listened to Connor's soft snores. He knew that Connor was right, he would have to talk about what made him leave his beloved valley and home but right now he couldn't. The pain was still too raw. Finishing his coffee, Nick set the cup aside. Pulling the blanket over him he fell asleep, remembering his brother's eyes and his mother's soft words.

Moving stealthily, Nick waited for the signal from Connor to let him know that they were in position. The warbling call of a songbird was heard in the quiet. Taking aim at the man below, Nick fired a warning shot.

"Rangers! Freeze! Drop the guns boys and step back," Nick ordered.

Seeing the man who identified himself as a Ranger above them the men dropped their gunbelts and stepped back. Keeping his rifle trained on them Nick watched as Connor, the Federal Marshal and his posse placed the men under arrest. Accepting the thanks of the Marshal, Nick and Connor rode out, the idea of a hot bath and a good meal entertained.

The late afternoon sun was strong but offered little warmth. Winter had the valley in its grip, making the air crisp. Nick was uneasy about being back in the valley so soon but the robbers trail had led them here and so they had followed. As they rode along Nick found his mind wandering to the chores being done at the ranch. Rounding up strays and checking fence would be the most common. His mother would be starting on her holiday baking, filling the house with fantastic smells. Audra would be embroidering and helping Mother and Silas with the holiday baking. Heath would be going over the accounts, figuring out the costs that would be incurred for spring. Thinking about his younger brother, Nick knew his disappearance was hardest on him. They were close, closer than two brothers could be and it was because of the closeness that Nick had left. Lost in his thoughts Nick did not notice the glint of sunlight off of the metal, nor register the sound of a gun being fired. All he knew was the sickening thud of a bullet ripping into his side, and pain exploding.

At the sound of the shot Connor turned to Nick, the bullet propelled him off the back of Satan and into the dirt. Diving off of Thunder Connor looked around for any indication of where the shot came from. A glint of metal was seen before an answering shot was fired, he saw the body of the man fall from his perch atop the rocks. Kneeling next to Nick he moved his coat aside, seeing the expanding bloodstain on his shirt. Running to Satan, Connor grabbed whatever material he could find in Nick's saddlebag. Kneeling next to him Connor applied pressure to the wound trying to stem the flow of blood. Knowing he had to get him help, Connor manhandled Nick upright, forcing him onto the back of Satan. Jumping onto Thunder, Connor grabbed Satan's reins and forced both horses into a full gallop.

Heath watched as the riders approached the house. Seeing the man pull hard up on the reigns of his horse he heard him shouting. Running over to see what the problem was Heath watched as the big man pulled the other off his horse; he could see the blood staining the injured man's coat. Heath was shocked at the sight of the pale face of his brother. Shouting for one of the men to ride for the doctor, Heath ran to assist the older man with carrying his brother. The warning growl from the dog stopped him.

"Dog, quiet," the older man ordered. The dog stopped his growling but kept a wary eye on the blonde man. "I'll carry him," the big man said, lifting the unconscious form in his arms like a child.

Dog followed behind as Connor carried Nick into the house. Heading to the stairs Connor didn't acknowledge the pale woman that ran in from the living room.

Following the blonde man Connor kept up his silent prayer. _Please God, please God let him live_, he prayed over and over. Even though they shared no blood he considered the man he carried his son, the love he felt for him evident in his anguished face.

Setting him gently on the bed Connor tore his coat off before laying him down. Hearing the warning growl from Dog, Connor ordered him to lie down. Dog walked over to the hearth lay down, his gaze never leaving the wounded man on the bed. Looking into the blue eyes of the man on the other side of the bed Connor accepted his help. Undressing Nick carefully but quickly they got him stripped just as Victoria arrived with towels and water. Pushing the men aside Victoria began to clean the wound. Watching her Connor could see the love, determination and even anger that clouded her face. Hearing the front door slam Victoria knew that Doc Merrar had arrived. The warning growl from Dog was immediately silenced by the sharp command of 'quiet' that issued from the small lady. Connor stepped back and watched as the doctor and the elegant woman struggled to save the life of the man that meant so much to him.

At the sharp order of 'out' from the doctor, Connor signaled for Dog to follow him. As he followed the blonde man down the stairs and into the living room, his thoughts were on the man lying in the bed. Pouring a glass of whiskey for himself and the older man Heath held it out to him. Accepting the glass, Connor drained the liquid in one gulp. Heath poured him another measure, watching as he again drained it in one swallow. Sitting his large frame in the chair Connor removed his hat, running his hands through his graying hair. Staring at the glass in his hand he twirled it around watching the firelight dance in the cut pattern. Neither man said a word as they waited for news, both lost in their own thoughts. Hearing the soft footsteps, Connor stood bracing himself for the news.

"He's alive. But he has lost a lot of blood and there is a chance of fever. But Doctor Merrar is hopeful that he will make a full recovery," Victoria said, the weariness in her voice apparent.

Collapsing in the chair, Connor closed his eyes, murmuring a heartfelt 'thank God'. Wiping the tears that formed out of his eyes he stood once more and asked, "May I see him?"

Victoria nodded. Watching the large man shadowed by the dog climb the stairs Victoria wondered at the bond that seemed to exist between her son and this bear of a man.

Nick struggled in the darkness. He could hear voices but they were far away. He could hear someone moaning. _Was that him? Why couldn't he open his eyes?_ He tried to move but something was holding him down. Thrashing, Nick heard someone calling him. He knew that voice! It was the same one that called to him in his dreams. It was Heath and he needed him! But he couldn't get up! He couldn't help him! Just like all the other times when Heath needed him and he wasn't there for him. She had been right. . He could never be what Heath needed! He would never be able to protect him. He would lose Heath like he lost Tommy and it would be his fault! She said if he had been quieter Tommy would not have died, he needed to be quiet. That was it! If he were quieter Heath would be okay he needed to be quiet…_quiet._

Heath held Nick down talking to him trying to calm him. He knew that Nick would reopen his wound if he didn't calm down.

"Mother! Doc,," Heath shouted, trying to hold Nick down on the bed! Connor heard Heath's shouts, running into the room he saw Nick struggling to get up. Crossing to the other side of the bed, Connor helped Heath hold Nick down all the while talking to him. Doc arrived telling Connor to keep talking to him.

"Nick, shhh.., relax son. Your fine but you need to relax. Shh…, son. Shh..," Connor spoke his deep voice seeming to calm Nick.

"Pa?" Nick asked, his eyes closed but the tears escaping.

"Yes, Nicky it's Pa. Now you need to rest, you've been hurt. Relax son" Connor said, his deep voice filled with emotion. Looking up at Victoria his eyes apologized to her. Seeing the understanding in her eyes he looked back at Nick.

"Pa, I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't mean to…," his body finally giving out Nick slipped into unconsciousness. Smoothing the hair off his forehead Connor wiped the tears from Nick's eyes. Standing up, he moved aside to allow Doc room to check Nick. Walking over to the window Connor ran his hands through his hair.

"He is unconscious and will probably remain so for quite a while," Doc said. "Victoria, I am going to leave some medicine to help him sleep and to fight any fever. I will be back tomorrow to check on him. Right now I have a child to deliver. Mr. Owens, it seems that your voice is the only one that can calm Nick, you will remain here?"

"Yes, Mr. Owens will be remaining John," Victoria answered.

"Good, good," John answered. Placing a hand on Victoria's shoulder he gave it a gentle squeeze. "He is a strong man Victoria, he will recover. Right now my greatest concern is fever. Keep him calm and with care and God's grace he will be fine."

"Thank you, John," Victoria answered.

"Let me walk you out Doc," Heath offered. "Mother, I will be right back."

Nodding her head in agreement Victoria watched as Heath and the doctor left the room. Straightening the covers on Nick, Victoria walked over to stand next to Connor.

"He was wounded a few months back, just a graze really but an infection set in and he developed a fever," Connor began his deep voice soft. "Let me tell you those were the three hardest days of my life. He talked the whole time. Crying out at times, apologizing, reliving memories. That is how I came to know so much about him. He talked about all of you. I think the hardest thing though was when he started to shout for his pa. God, the pain in his voice! It took all that I had to keep him calm. Finally I just started talking to him like his father might and that seemed to calm him. For two days I talked, shouted, begged finally the fever broke and he slept; took him another week to fully recover. By that time he was so quiet it scared me."

"Nick has never been quiet," Victoria said, the smile evident in her voice. Seeing the shock on Connor's face at her statement Victoria asked, "What?"

"Mrs. Barkley…," Connor began.

"Victoria, please."

"Victoria, Nick is the quietest man I've ever met. He never raises his voice, in fact when he is angry he gets even quieter."

This time it was Victoria's turn to be shocked.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Connor looped Thunder's reins over the hitching post in front of the telegraph office. Walking in, Connor sent the telegraph he had been waiting a year to send. The message was short and to the point.

_Resigning as per agreement. _

_Nick Barkley and Connor Owens. _

The second wire was more mundane but just as important.

Waiting for the responses he knew would arrive, Connor stepped outside for a smoke. Watching the comings and goings on the street he thought about Nick and his family. Whether Nick liked it or not he was staying home even if Connor had to beat him to make him agree. Heath was just as Nick had described him. Quiet, reserved but Connor could see the stubborn streak in him, the same one that resided in Nick.

Jarrod he met this morning at breakfast. He could see why Nick was proud of him; it was rare to find not only an intelligent man but an honorable one. He could see the myriad of questions in Jarrod's eyes and he swore he would answer them as best he could. He could also see the stubborn streak in him too.

Audra was as beautiful as Nick had said. Her soft heart was evident when she was informed about her brother not only being home but injured. Her very next statement showed that she shared the same stubborn streak that was evident in her bothers.

Eugene was on his way home from college; his train arriving tomorrow. Connor wondered if he shared the same stubborn streak that was evident in the rest of his siblings. Chuckling softly to himself, Connor was sure he probably did.

That left only Victoria Barkley. He tried not to think of her but he found he was unable to prevent himself. He had known many beautiful women in his life but the moment he had seen Victoria Barkley at her husband's gravesite he was unable to get her out of his mind. There was something about her that attracted him. When she had placed her small hand on his arm last night he felt the shock travel through him. And from the look on her face she had felt it too, her slate-grey eyes wide in reaction. He found himself drowning in them. He managed to just stop himself from kissing her last night. Shaking himself out of reverie he walked back into the telegraph office to check for a reply. Seeing the clerk taking down a reply Connor waited.

"Oh Mr. Owens, I was just going to send a boy to find you. Here are the replies you were waiting for."

"Thank you," Connor replied taking the wires from him. Opening it he read the terse reply smiling at the imagined look on the Captain's face when he read his original wire. The second reply informed him that the funds from his bank to the local bank would be transferred within the next two days. Tucking both replies into his jacket pocket he decided to finish the few errands that he had to do before heading back to the ranch.

Tossing Thunder's reins to Ciego, Connor carried his packages to the house. The sight that greeted Connor when he opened the door was enough to make him to lose his temper. Standing in the foyer was Nick, dressed, pale, sweaty and quiet. Around him he saw Jarrod, Heath and Victoria standing, the looks on their faces ranging from anger to hurt. Tossing his packages aside Connor stopped directly in front of Nick and ground out, "Going somewhere?"

"Get out of my way Connor" Nick said softly, the threat evident in his voice.

Connor stepped aside to let Nick pass. As Nick walked by him Connor spun him around hitting him across the jaw. The force of the blow was enough to stun Nick allowing his exhausted body to take over. Catching him before he hit the floor Connor held him in his arms. Turning to Jarrod and Heath he said, "Let's get him back upstairs before he wakes up."

Letting his brothers take him Connor watched as they carried him back upstairs. Seeing the look of pain on Victoria's face Connor followed her to the living room. Her back ramrod straight she looked like a woman in complete control. Standing behind her he placed his large hands on her shoulders. Massaging softly he offered her comfort. Feeling her lean back against him he dropped his head into her hair. Moving away from him she turned, wrapping her arms around him she gave him a brief hug before letting go. Looking up into his face she whispered, "I need to check on Nick."

Taking her hand in his Connor raised it to his lips, turning it over he kissed her palm before releasing her hand. "I'll be down here if you need me," he replied softly.

Watching Nick sleep Victoria thought about the man downstairs talking to her sons. Connor Owens was a stranger that seemed to share a special bond with Nick. She knew he was a Ranger, a lawman, a reluctant one though by his own admission. But there was something more about Connor Owens. Something that made her feel the same feelings she had felt when her beloved Tom was alive. Their first meeting at Tom's gravesite was cordial but she could feel the undercurrents even then. Last night when she touched him it was as if something sparked between them. She had been sure that he was going to kiss her but he did not. She was surprised at the intense disappointment she felt when he hadn't. Then this afternoon when he stood behind her she felt it again the feeling that there was some sort of connection with him. When he had kissed her palm she felt those familiar tingles she had felt when Tom was alive. It had been so long since she had felt like a desirable woman. She wasn't sure exactly how to handle the feelings she was now experiencing. Closing her eyes Victoria sent a silent prayer to the heavens for guidance and strength.

Connor watched Jarrod pace back and forth digesting all the answers that Connor had provided to his questions. Heath, on the other hand, sat in the chair before the fireplace staring into the fire. He could tell both men were amazed at the change in their brother. Since Connor had not known Nick prior to his disappearance he did not know him as the loud, boisterous act first think later Nick instead he knew him as the exact opposite.

"Gentlemen, I am going to check in on Nick, give your mother a chance to rest," Connor said standing. "Jarrod if you have any more questions I'll be with Nick. Heath."

Walking out of the library, Connor headed upstairs to check on Nick and maybe talk with Victoria. Meeting Silas outside of Nick's room he took the tray from him assuring him that he would indeed make sure that Ms. Victoria ate a little. Thanking him Silas headed downstairs to prepare dinner.

Opening the door, Connor saw her sitting in the chair that she had pulled near the bed. Setting the tray on the small table Connor walked over to check on Nick.

"He's still sleeping," she whispered.

"Any change?"

"No, but he seems to be sleeping now instead of just being unconscious," Victoria observed.

"Silas sent a tray up for you. I promised him I would make sure that you ate a bit" Connor said softly, walking over to the window. "And I also told your sons that I would sit with Nick for a bit so that you could rest."

Watching Victoria walk over to the tray, he felt the desire for this woman course through his veins. Disgusted with himself at the inappropriateness of his feelings he turned to stare out the window. Feeling her behind him he grasped the curtain in his hand trying to quell the desire in him. Moving so that she stood next to him she stared out the window.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Victoria asked, afraid to know but even more afraid not to know.

Tightening his hand on the curtain until his knuckles shown white he groaned, "Yes."

Turning to her he saw the anxiety, elation and fear that he was sure was mirrored on his face on hers. Unable to stop he pulled her into his arms, her head forced up, his eyes searching hers.

"Victoria...Victoria...that is too cold a name for you. Tori is the name for you. A name as hot as the desire that flows through my blood for you. Tori tell me to stop and I will, I'll stop," Connor said his lips moving closer to hers.

"Kiss me, Connor, please," Victoria whispered. Groaning her name Connor dropped his head kissing her. Moving from her lips to her neck Connor kept repeating her name as if in prayer. Pulling back Connor stared down into the face of the woman he had just met and fallen in love with. Forcing himself to release her he moved back.

"Tori, go rest," Connor begged. "Now! Please."

Looking up into the eyes of Connor Victoria nodded her head. Walking over to Nick, Victoria kissed him lightly on the forehead before walking to the door. Turning to look at Connor once more Victoria's breath caught at the obvious desire on Connor's face.

"Go!" Connor ground out his control rapidly slipping. Seeing her close the door, Connor took a calming breath. Walking over to sit in the chair occupied by Victoria just minutes before Connor looked at Nick.

"You're going to talk to me boy and between the two of us we will bury whatever ghosts that are haunting you," Connor promised his sleeping friend. In a quieter voice Connor added, "And I pray you don't kill me when you find out about how I feel about your mother."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Opening his eyes Nick looked around the room that he had not seen in well over a year. Trying to sit up Nick could not contain the gasp of pain that escaped him.

"I would suggest little brother that you lie back down. The doctor doesn't need you pulling those stitches out."

Peering into the dark Nick could just make out the silhouette of Jarrod. Laying his head back on the pillow Nick closed his eyes hoping that Jarrod would leave. Opening his eyes again he found that instead of him leaving he had moved to sit in the chair next to the bed.

"Now, little brother, perhaps you would care to explain why you've been gone for more than a year. No word about where you were or what you were doing. In fact, until a few months ago none of us even knew if you were still alive. Mother was sick with worry. Heath about worked himself into the ground. Audra cried at the drop of a hat and I spent every waking moment trying to track you down. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the Federal Courthouse and saw my brother walking down the stairs, a Ranger badge on his chest. And imagine my reaction when instead of greeting me with warmth I received a cool 'Jarrod' and he walked away. Imagine how I felt when I watched him ride away" Jarrod finished his voice changing from anger to sadness.

"Why ,Nick? Why did you leave? What was so bad that you had to leave?" Jarrod asked, his voice breaking. Taking a calming breath, Jarrod ran his hand through his hair. Looking at Nick, Jarrod saw that his face was turned to the wall.

"Well, I see one thing hasn't changed in the time you have been gone. You're still as stubborn as ever." Picking up the glass filled with the medicine that Doc had left Jarrod ordered, "Drink this!" Seeing the defiant look on Nick's face Jarrod said, "Look you either drink this or I'll call Heath and Connor and we will force it down your throat, the choice is yours."

Seeing the look of anger on his brother's face then resignation he helped Nick sit up. Holding the glass to his lips he watched as his brother drank the medicine. Replacing the glass on the table he watched Nick close his eyes allowing the medicine to take effect. Leaning over to fix the covers on Nick, Jarrod almost missed the softly spoken _'Pappy'_ from his younger brother. Hearing the loved nickname Jarrod placed a soft kiss on his forehead whispering, "I love you too."

The sunlight streaming in the window told Nick that it was late afternoon. Sitting up slowly Nick noticed that there was no one keeping watch over him. Seeing that he was at least semi-dressed he swung his legs off the bed standing slowly. Grabbing the headboard of his bed he stood completely still waiting for the wave of dizziness to subside. Feeling the dizziness abate Nick took a few tentative steps away from the bed. Suddenly the room began to go black and he would have fallen to the floor if it weren't for a strong pair of arms grabbing him.

"Easy, big brother. What are you trying to do? Ruin all of Doc's work. Come on let's get you back in bed," Heath said. Hearing the whispered words Heath answered, "All right. But as soon as that is taken care of you are going right back to bed."

Covering Nick once more Heath looked at his big brother. He never thought he would see this face again. All those nights lying sleepless in his bed, wondering if he was alive or dead were finally answered. Sitting down in the chair Heath watched as Nick drifted into sleep.

"I know you're awake. Can't ride with a man over a year without knowing when he wakes. So are you going to say something or just lay there?" Connor asked his eyes still closed, his head leaning against the back of the chair. "Your mother will be up soon with a tray for ya. You're lucky you didn't develop a fever. Course no thanks to that fool stunt ya pulled the other afternoon."

Standing up, Connor stretched his large frame, working out the kinks from sleeping in a chair for most of the night. After relieving Heath at 1 AM Connor had used the quiet time to come to terms with his feelings for Victoria and her family. Helping Nick to stand Connor assisted him with some personal matters. After completing them he sat Nick in the chair while he stripped the linens off the bed and remade it. Turning to look at Nick he noted the scraggy look of him.

"Boy, you look like a scraggily bear. How bout a shave?" Hearing no answer from him Connor grinned. "Boy, I told you months ago, I can be just as stubborn as you. Now stop glaring and cursing me silently and prepare yourself for a shave."

Connor worked quickly at shaving Nick. Tilting his head back to finish shaving his neck Connor looked into the hazel eyes of the man he considered his son. As the razor cut through the days old beard Connor whispered, "Talk to me Nick. Let me help. Your family loves you and needs you. Don't throw them away." Staring into the hazel eyes below him he saw the pain and anguish inside this man, willing him to say something, anything Connor waited.

"I can't," Nick whispered the pain in his voice stabbing Connor like a knife. Closing his eyes briefly, Connor blinked the tears from his eyes. Taking a deep breath Connor finished shaving Nick. Cleaning the rest of the shaving soap off him he helped him to stand and move to the bed. Clasping him tightly to his chest Connor bent his head, whispering in Nick's ear, "I love you boy. And you can. I don't know what or who has done this to you but I swear that I will be here when you need me."

Connor held Nick tightly. The most gut wrenching sound escaped from Nick moments before Connor felt the tears flow from this man. Blinking the answering tears from his eyes he held Nick as he cried. Rubbing his back Connor soothed him as best he could. Feeling Nick go limp in his arms Connor leaned back looking into Nick's face. The physical and emotional injury had exhausted him, his body slipping into unconsciousness again. Lying him down gently on the bed Connor smoothed the hair from Nick's face. Covering him, Connor sat down watching the man that could not or would not forgive himself for a wrong that only he accused himself of. Standing, Connor left Nick sleeping, heading downstairs to inform Victoria that Nick was asleep again.

Connor looked at the vista that the North ridge afforded him. After informing Victoria about Nick's condition Connor felt the urgent need to get out of the house. Saddling Thunder Connor rode across the ranch. Not sure where he was going but following a feeling Connor directed Thunder north. Coming to a stop at the ridge Connor dismounted and stood looking out over the land below him. He could feel the draw of this land. Looping Thunder's reins over one of the low hanging branches Connor leaned against the tree lost in his thoughts. The whinny of an approaching horse shook Connor out of his reverie and he turned to find Victoria dismounting from her mare. Looping the reins of her horse over one of the branches Victoria walked over to Connor.

"Victoria?" Connor asked his voice filled with worry.

"Nick is fine. Audra is sitting with him. I needed to get out," Victoria told him, suddenly feeling very nervous. "Nick used to come up here all the time. So did Tom and I."

"I can see why. It is very peaceful," Connor answered, his deep voice filled with warmth. "Victoria what is it? Tori, tell me."

"Tom used to call me Tori. He said that it suited me better than Victoria," she said nervously.

"A man of good sense your husband was," Connor replied softly. "He was right you know, Tori fits you much better than Victoria. Tori, I am not asking you to forget Tom, he was your husband. He gave you five wonderful children. Just like I will never forget my Maggie you will never forget your Tom. Every time you look at one of your children you see your husband. But I think that Tom would tell you that he would want you to live and love again if you could. He wouldn't want you to be tied to a memory, not when there is so much love still left in you. I am not asking for an answer right now but know this Victoria Tori Barkley, I am in love with you and if it means I have to wait then I will wait," Connor finished, walking to Thunder.

"Thank you," Victoria answered, following to her horse.

"Don't thank me yet Tori, I said I would wait but I didn't say anything about not using everything at my disposal to try to influence your decision. You see, I am pretty sure that you are already half in love with me and with a little bit of convincing I think I could get you to fall in love with me completely," Connor arrogantly stated. Pulling her tight against his chest he kissed her. Releasing her, he swung onto Thunder's back, tilting his hat low on his head he flashed a cocky grin and rode off.

Watching him ride away, Victoria realized that he was right, falling in love with him completely would not be hard at all.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Hmmm… you've healed well Nick. But no heavy work. The muscle is still healing and I don't want you placing any strain on it," Doc Merrar said snapping his bag shut. "If you have any discomfort at all I want you to come and see me immediately, do you understand?"

"Yes," Nick answered tucking his shirt inside his pants.

"As long as you don't do any heavy work I shouldn't have to see you again," Doc said.

Nick grunted a reply, fastening his gun to his leg. He rode into town this afternoon with Connor, Heath and Jarrod to have Doc check him out but also to get away from the ranch. Grabbing his hat Nick nodded his thanks to Doc and left his office. Hoping that he could avoid his brothers and his friend Nick walked to the saloon. Greeting Harvey he ordered a bottle of whiskey, sat down at one of the back tables and proceeded to get drunk.

Harvey didn't like it, not one bit. He knew Nick Barkley and this silent man was not the Nick Barkley he knew. He had been sitting alone drinking since this afternoon. Harvey watched as he poured himself another glass from the emptying bottle next to him. Nick had his feet propped up on the table, his hat low over his eyes and to anyone not familiar with him he looked like he was asleep. But Harvey knew better, he wasn't asleep. No, he was waiting, and Harvey was afraid that what Nick Barkley was waiting for was trouble. And from the looks of things trouble wouldn't be long in coming. Motioning for Jeb, Harvey whispered to him. Looking over at Nick Jeb nodded and left the saloon on his errand.

Walking into Jarrod's office Jeb found three men talking quietly. When he related to them what Harvey had told him their reactions were not the best. The biggest one slammed his hand onto the desk, Jarrod looked angry and Heath looked calm but Jeb could see the anger in his eyes. The three men grabbed their hats heading to the saloon.

Entering the saloon the three made their way to the table that Nick sat at. Jarrod sat in the chair next to Nick. Heath pulled a chair out, turned it around and sat in it, tipping it forward. Connor sat on the other side of Nick reaching for the bottle he felt the iron grip of Nick's hand on his wrist.

"Leave it," Nick growled. Ignoring the grip on his wrist Connor grabbed the bottle with his other hand, passing it to one of the saloon girls. Turning back to face Nick, Connor found himself looking down the barrel of Nick's gun. The cold deadly look on Nick's face shocked Jarrod and Heath. Neither man moved, afraid that any sudden movement would get Connor killed.

"Put it away boy," Connor warned.

"Old man, you're in no position to give me orders," Nick growled, cocking the hammer back. The click of the hammer was loud in the deathly silence of the saloon.

"Put it away boy," Connor warned him again, his voice low and controlled.

"Old man, I can blow your head off. What are you going to do?" sneered Nick.

"Boy put it away, before your mama has to bury a son," Connor warned.

Feeling the muzzle of Connor's gun in his abdomen Nick could not hide his surprise. Releasing the hammer gently, Nick laid his gun on the table slowly. Feeling Connor move the gun from his stomach Nick was unprepared for the slap that knocked him off his chair. Grabbing him by his shirtfront Connor hauled Nick to his feet. Backhanding him again Nick flew toward the bar. Struggling to his feet Nick launched himself at Connor. A blow to his stomach dropped Nick to his knees. Struggling up Nick launched himself at Connor again. Blocking a badly thrown punch Connor smashed his fist into Nick's face sending him back against the bar, his legs crumpling under him. Struggling to his hands and knees, Nick spit out the blood dripping from his mouth. Looking up at Connor Nick launched himself once more at the big man. Tackling him around the waist Nick and Connor fell to the floor. Connor was the first to his feet. Grabbing Nick by the shirtfront Connor pulled his fist back ready to deliver another blow to the cowboy. The hand that grabbed his arm prevented him from delivering the planned punch.

"Connor! No," Jarrod said, "he is not fighting! Look at him. He is not fighting back!"

Turning to look at Nick Connor realized that Jarrod was right, Nick was not fighting back. In fact he was simply allowing Connor to beat him. The words that Nick had said weeks ago replayed in Connor's mind…._'You're not my father…not even my brother. And that would be the_ _only way I would let you beat me._' Looking at Connor, Nick whispered something before passing out.

Connor watched as Doc cleaned the cuts. Nick had only regained consciousness for few minutes while they carried him to Doc's. His whispered Pa, Pappy and Boy tore at the men. They heard the dejection and pain in those simple words. Walking out to join Jarrod and Heath, Connor could not believe how close he had come to killing Nick. If Jarrod had not stopped him he was sure he would have beaten Nick to death.

"Doc almost done?" Jarrod asked.

"Yes," answered Connor, the pain in his voice evident.

Placing a hand on the older man's shoulder Jarrod suggested, "Connor, why don't you head back to the ranch. Let Mother know what happened. Talk to her."

Looking at Jarrod then at Heath Connor saw only concern in their faces. "That might be for the best," agreed Connor. Watching Connor mount up and ride off Jarrod flicked his cigarette away.

"I've waited over a year to hear Boy from him," Heath whispered, staring up at the stars.

"I never thought I would hear Pappy again," Jarrod added. "Did you hear him call Connor Pa?"

"Yea," answered Heath. "I wonder how that came to be?"

"Probably the same way he started to use Pappy and Boy," Jarrod said. "He meant it as an insult but somewhere along the way it changed from insulting to loving. You know he calls Eugene 'runt'? Eugene bristles every time he hears it."

"Pappy, what is wrong with him? It's like…. God, I don't know what it is but I don't like it!"

"Me either Boy, me either. But something is eating at him. I just wish I knew what it was," finished Jarrod. Giving Heath's shoulder a quick squeeze, Jarrod walked into Doc's office to check on their brother, Heath following.

Connor walked Thunder to the barn. Removing his tack and brushing him down Connor wondered how to explain what happened in town to Victoria. He wasn't sure how to explain that he had almost beat her son to death. Connor knew that Nick had pushed him into the fight. Looking back on it now he should have been aware of the signs. But anger, concern and love had clouded his thinking. He reacted just as Nick knew he would. And it almost cost Nick his life. Involved in his thoughts Connor did not hear the soft footsteps enter the barn.

"Connor?"

Turning around Connor looked into the concerned face of Victoria. Wrapped in long coat against the chilly night air, her hands thrust deep in the pockets she looked like a young woman not the mother of five grown children. Placing the brush on the shelf Connor walked over to her. Wrapping his arms around her he rested his head on her hair.

Pulling back Victoria looked up into his face and asked, "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Connor replied, "I almost killed Nick tonight."

"Is he alright? Where is he? Why? What happened?" Victoria asked, the fear and concern evident in her hastily asked questions.

"Let's go up to the house and I will tell you."

"No, tell me here and now," Victoria demanded.

"Nick was drinking at the saloon. Harvey sent one of his men to get Jarrod, Heath and I. When we arrived he was sitting down still drinking. I took the bottle away from him and he didn't take to kindly to it….drew his gun on me. I convinced him to put it away. When he finally did I lost my temper. If it hadn't been for Jarrod grabbing my arm I think I would have beat him to death," Connor said softly.

Looking at Connor Victoria noticed that he had not cuts or bruises. "He didn't fight back did he?" she asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"No, he didn't," Connor answered his voice thick with emotion. "God, Tori he just kept coming at me. I would knock him down and he would get back up and come at me again. I didn't realize that he wasn't fighting back. Jarrod told me. Tori, I could've killed him!"

"But you didn't Connor, you didn't," Victoria said. "Where is he now?"

"He's at Doc's. Doc said that he would be fine. A few cuts and bruises but nothing that won't heal." Seeing the guilt that Connor carried about this incident Victoria wrapped her arms around him and held him.

"Connor, Nick was lucky. He could have easily been killed by a stranger," Victoria said. "But he wasn't. Yes, he goaded you into hitting him. And yes, there might have been a small chance that you would have injured him but I think he knew and somewhere deep inside you knew that you wouldn't hurt him."

"He called me 'Pa'. Right before he passed out he called me Pa. He started calling me that about a year ago. Used to irritate the daylights out of me."

Chuckling softly Victoria replied, "When he would call Jarrod 'Pappy' when they were growing up it used to irritate Jarrod to no end. But as they got older 'Pappy' changed from an insult to a loving nickname. Nick did the same with Heath. When Heath first arrived he called him 'Boy'. I know Heath hated it but when Heath was injured once Nick was the only one that could get him to respond. He responded to 'Boy'. Nick is the only one that calls him that. Do you know what he used to call Tom when he was younger?" Victoria asked.

"No...what?"

"He would call his father Bull," laughed Victoria. "I remember the first time he called him that. I thought Tom was going to whip him within an inch of his life. But he didn't. In fact, Nick calls all the people he loves by nicknames. He calls me Duchess, Audra, 'Little Girl' which she hates, and Eugene 'Runt'. So now it seems that he has added you to his list of loved ones, Pa," Victoria smiled.

Nick woke feeling as if he had been rolled over by a bull. Everywhere on his body hurt! Raising his head he groaned and let it fall back on the pillow. His head was splitting, his body hurt and he had the distinct feeling that he made a big mistake. Sitting up slowly he placed his feet on the floor, his head in his hands. Taking a deep breath Nick stood slowly and walked to wash basin. Pouring the cold water into the basin Nick washed his face holding the cloth to his head to ease the pounding. Looking into the small mirror he stared into the eyes of the man that seemed to become more of a stranger everyday. No not a stranger, more of a shadow of the man he had once been. They said when a man's soul was lost that his body became just a shell. That was how Nick felt, a shell. Dropping the cloth back into the basin Nick sat on the edge of the bed pulling his boots on. Grabbing his hat, gun and coat he walked out of the small rooms in Doc's office.

Walking down the hall he thought of what he was going to say to his brothers and Connor. Not to mention his mother, since he knew that one of them had related to her what had happened. Walking out into the bright morning sun Nick wondered if he had been trying to get himself killed yesterday. He was honest enough to know that he goaded Connor into beating him. Looking back he wondered why he so readily agreed to join the Rangers and hunt some of the most dangerous criminals in the west.

Did he have a death wish? Did he want to die at the end of a gun rather than endure the slow loss of his soul? Was that the reason he took so many fool chances? He wondered if Connor joined because he saw that in him, that death wish.

Walking across to the livery stable Nick heard his name being called. Turning he saw young Matt running toward him.

"Mr. Barkley, this just came for you," Matt said handing the telegram to Nick. Opening the telegram, Nick's face became hard and cold. Instinctively backing away from the expression on Nick's face Matt was glad that he was not the one that Nick Barkley was angry with. Placing the telegram in his pocket, Nick retrieved a fifty-cent piece from his pocket and tossed it to Matt thanking him.

Continuing to the livery stable, Nick thought about the information that the telegram held. He knew the Captain had his reasons for warning him about the escape of Masters. Even though he and Connor were no longer active Rangers Nick knew that the warning was sent as a courtesy; Rangers whether active or retired always looked after their own. Pulling the cinch tighter on Satan, Nick decided that he would not inform Connor of the threat of Masters. When Masters showed up in Stockton Nick would handle him. Masters wanted him for killing his two brothers and Nick knew that Masters would kill anyone that got in his way. Nick could not allow anyone else to die because of him. If Masters wanted to kill him Nick would make sure that he was his only target!

Mounting Satan, Nick rode out of town toward the ranch.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Picking up the quilt Connor shook the hay off of it. Folding it in half he draped it over the slat of the stall. Reaching up he plucked a piece of straw from Victoria's hair before gathering her into his arms and kissing her. For a few moments nothing existed but this woman in his arms. Pulling back he looked down into her face and smiled at the loved look her face held.

"We better get you back to the house," Connor whispered, resting his head on her hair and enjoying her unique scent. "I don't think your sons will be happy if they were to discover that their Mama had spent the night in the stable."

"Well they might not be happy about it but I am," Victoria replied softly, resting her head against Connor's large chest. Tilting her face up Connor captured her lips once more in a tender kiss. Releasing her, Connor grabbed the quilt from the stall wall. Taking it from Connor's hands Victoria carried it. Draping his arm across her shoulders, Connor and Victoria walked out of the stable as Nick walked in.

Silence stretched and enveloped them as Victoria looked at her middle son. Nick looked from his mother to Connor to the quilt held in her arms. The lack of emotion on Nick's face chilled Victoria. Connor's face betrayed nothing of what he was feeling. Before Victoria could utter a word Nick turned his back and led Satan to his stall. Victoria turned to follow Nick into the stable but the hand on her arm stopped her. Looking up into Connor's face Victoria silently agreed to wait. The time was not right to discuss this. Slipping her small hand into Connor's large one the two continued onto the house.

Pulling the tack off of Satan Nick fumed silently.

How dare Connor! How dare he take advantage of his mother this way!

Nick had always hoped that his mother would find someone else to love. Someone that would help ease the loneliness he knew she felt since the death of his father. But to have Connor be that man was more than Nick could take. In the almost two years he had known Connor he had seen him charm his way into many a woman's heart. Whenever they had been in between assignments Connor was never without a woman. Granted, Nick knew he himself was no saint but that was not the point. The point was that this was his mother and Connor had said himself that he was not looking to settle down. He had made it quite clear to the many women he knew that he would never marry again! Nick remembered the answer that Connor had given him when he asked about marriage. Connor had replied _'why pay for the cow when you can get the milk for free'. _

Slamming the brush down onto the shelf, Nick gripped the edge of the upper slat to Satan's stall, his knuckles white. Yanking as hard as he could, he ripped the slat from its brace and threw it across the stable. Stalking out of the stable the only thought that Nick had was of tearing Connor limb for limb.

Storming into the house Nick took the stairs two at a time. Striding down the hall, anger following in his footsteps, Nick flung open the door to Connor's room. Seeing the object of his quest standing with his back to him Nick strode into the room, slamming the door behind him.

Connor did not react to the slamming of the door he continued to stare out the window. Feeling the threatening presence of Nick behind him Connor waited for the inevitable. The punishing blows from an enraged Nick Barkley. The blows never descended instead an eerie silence punctuated by the soft breathing of the two men filled the room. Unable to stand the silence any longer Connor turned to look a Nick. Hazel eyes bore into green ones until Connor was forced to glance away. Walking away, Connor felt Nick's gaze bore into his back.

Watching Connor begin to remove his clothes from the dresser and place them inside his saddlebags Nick bit out, "So I guess you don't love her that much. She is just another whore that you have bedded."

Hearing the word whore, Connor bellowed his rage, springing across the room he slammed Nick into the wall his arm across his throat.

"Don't ever call her that. She is not a whore!" Connor ground out.

Nick stared hard into Connor's eyes, delving deep into the man's soul. Connor stared back, unable to tear his gaze from the man he held in a tight grip. Finally lowering his eyes Connor let go, moving away slowly. His head down, he stared at his shaking hands.

Nick moved away from the wall where he had been pinned. Walking to the window he stared out at the sky, heavy gray clouds were slowly covering the blue expanse. Turning he looked at the man sitting on the edge of the bed his body showing every sign of defeat. Walking over to him he stopped in front of him and waited.

Connor stared at the boots in front of him, knowing he would have to look once more into the eyes of the man that had come to mean so much to him. Lifting his head he stared at the face before him.

"Don't hurt her old man. Cause if you do…If you cause her any pain I… will… hunt… you… down… and…. kill… you," Nick enunciated menacingly. Noting the shocked look on Connor's face Nick smiled slightly, walking to the door. Opening it he turned and added over his shoulder as he walked out, "Now, you just have to tell the rest of the family."

Staring into the fire Nick allowed his thoughts to wander over the events of the last few days. Connor and Mother had announced to the family their feelings for one another. Connor had gone so far as to ask permission from each family member for Mother's hand in marriage. Everyone had given his or her approval. When Connor had stood in front of Nick and asked him how he felt, the room had gone deathly quiet. He had simply said that Connor knew how he felt, and he meant every word of it. No one had any idea as to what Nick had said to Connor earlier but the relief on Connor's face had told everyone all that they needed to know. Backs were slapped, kisses exchanged and toasts were made. Later Mother had found him smoking a cheroot outside on the veranda, kissed his cheek and whispered her thanks. He remembered taking her in his arms, inhaling her unique scent, the scent that always reminded him of her, and telling her that no thanks were needed. All he wanted for her was her happiness. Releasing her he saw the unasked questions in her eyes, the questions that he himself was not ready to answer. He took the cowards way out. He kissed her cheek and wished her a goodnight before going to his rooms.

Staring at the fire Nick knew that eventually he would have to explain why he had left his beloved valley and home. Why he put himself at risk doing a job that guaranteed a man an early grave. And why he just did not care as to whether he lived or died. But he could not, the wounds were still too raw and the pain too intense.

Pouring himself another drink, Nick removed the new telegram from his vest pocket, reluctantly opening it and reading its contents. Balling it up Nick threw it into the fire, watching it turn to nothing but ash. He knew that Jarrod, Connor and Heath deserved to know about the threat but in a perverse way he could not bring himself to tell them. No, it was his job to keep them safe and their ignorance was the best way to keep them safe. He would take all the proper precautions to keep them safe and in the end it would be him, and only him that would face this threat.

Getting someone else killed would never happen again!


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dismounting from Satan, Nick tied him to the post. Turning his collar up against the cold wind Nick strode down the sidewalk, the wind biting into his legs. Entering the telegraph office Nick handed the note to the clerk. At the surprised look from the clerk Nick glared at him. Reddening slightly, the clerk cleared his throat self-consciously, and began the task of sending the telegrams out. Knowing he would have to wait for the replies Nick shrugged his thick range jacket off, flinging it onto the wooden chair setting next to the woodstove. Picking up a cup Nick poured himself some coffee before dropping his body into the chair and stretching his long legs out in front of him. Crossing his legs at the ankles, Nick tipped his hat down concealing his eyes but not his view of the telegraph office. Taking occasional sips from his cup Nick waited for his replies.

The jingling of the bell alerted him to the entrance of another customer. Not moving or acknowledging the man Nick watched him from under his tipped hat. The way that the man moved, his stance, his way of resting his hand on or near the butt of his gun advertised quite clearly to Nick that he was a gunfighter.

"May I help you, sir?" Matt asked as calmly as he could.

"Yea, I need to send this," the stranger answered, sliding a piece of paper to the clerk. "I'll wait for a reply."

Moving over to look out the front window the stranger glanced at the cowboy lounging in the chair. Something about him was familiar but he couldn't place what it was. Hearing the distinctive click- click of the telegraph line the stranger moved to retrieve his answer.

Looking up to see the stranger watching him, Matt informed him, "Sorry sir, this is not your reply. Mr. Barkley, here are your replies."

Moving away from the counter, the stranger turned to watch the man stand, put his coat back on, retrieve his replies, and walk out without a backwards glance. Moving to the window the gunfighter watched Barkley walk across the street and into the saloon. Leaning against the frame of the window the young stranger kept a close eye on the saloon entrance. Straightening up he watched as Barkley and another man exited the saloon, walking across the street toward him. Reaching down the young man unhooked his trigger moving his gun up a bit in his holster, all the while keeping his eyes on the two men walking toward him. Bringing his hand up, the young stranger cocked his finger in imitation of a gun following his quarry with the tip of his finger he watched as they mounted their horses turned and rode away. Looking at their backs as they rode off down the street the young man cocked his thumb, pointed at the back of Barkley's companion and whispered, "Bang your dead."

Blowing on the end of his finger the young stranger turned to retrieve his replies from the clerk. Matt felt his heart chill at the small smile that was on his lips; evil had never looked so innocent.

Waiting was one of his better qualities not that he had many. Most of his qualities were on the far end of the spectrum but patience had always been a quality that he had in abundance. Picking up a small stick on the outskirts of the fire he lit his cheroot, enjoying the flavor of the tobacco. Tossing the stick back into the fire he poured himself a cup of coffee, adding a little sugar before taking a small sip of it. He did not turn at the sound of the approaching rider. Being camped so far out of town, away from the nearest ranch offered him the security he needed for his business.

"It's sent," the young voice informed him before he squatted down near the fire, warming his hands.

"Good. Any problems?"

"Nope, but I did run into Barkley," the younger informed him, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Taking the offered sugar he added a teaspoon before handing it back. "He was in the telegraph office when I got there. He was waiting on replies to some telegrams he had sent out. No idea what they were about but he did go to the saloon afterward; watched him walk back out with the blonde before they both rode off."

"Ah…that would be the second youngest brother Heath, the bastard. Any sign of Owens or the other brother?"

"Nope, not today, but I did hear some interesting news in town. Seems that Owens has been spending time with Barkley's mama, hear tell it's serious. The ladies were talkin' bout a wedding and such."

"Interesting, this might work to our advantage. Anything else?"

"Nope, that's about it. I'm going to head back to town. I'll see ya in two days. Okay?"

"That will be fine. Remember, keep a low profile. Barkley has no idea who you are and I would prefer to keep it that way." 

"Yes sir, night Pa."

"Night son, remember be careful."

"Yes sir."

Masters watched as his son disappeared into the dark. Turning back to the fire, he smiled. Pouring another cup of coffee he whispered, "Soon Barkley you will pay. And pay dearly."

Lining his shot up Nick took a calming breath. Tapping the cue ball just a bit he watched as he traversed the green felt tapping the nine into the pocket.

"Dammit Nick, I swear one of these days I will win," Connor complained.

"Only when I let you old man, only when I let you," Nick answered smiling.

Placing his pool stick on the rack, he took Connor's from his outstretched hand placing it alongside his. Walking over to one of the wing chairs he sat down, accepting the glass of whiskey from Connor. Seeing the look on Connor's face Nick sighed knowing that he was in for a night of questions he just was not prepared to answer. Resigning himself to his fate for the time being he prepared himself for the first question.

"You can take that look off your face boy. I know you're in no mood to be questioned but humor me and answer just one," Connor said.

"And what would that question be?" replied Nick.

"How long were you going to keep it a secret that Masters is in town looking for you?" Seeing the look of shock on Nick's face Connor allowed himself a small smile.

"How did you know?" Nick asked surprised.

"I didn't. At least I wasn't completely sure," Connor informed Nick. "You have been on edge since a few weeks back. Right after you received those telegrams from the Captain."

Nick looked at Connor flabbergasted unable to form a coherent reply.

Smirking at the look on Nick's face Connor took a sip from his glass before adding, "Don't look so surprised. You forget boy I rode with you for almost two years, chasing some of the most dangerous outlaws in the west. I've learned how to read you. Now back to my original question, how long?"

Draining his glass Nick twirled it in his hands, watching the firelight play off cut design. Sitting back he continued to twirl the glass in his hands. "Not 'til I caught him or he killed me."

Fighting down the urge to jump to his feet and rail at Nick, Connor took another sip of his whiskey, its fire calming him.

"I wasn't going to take the chance that Masters would come after you or the family. I figured to give him an easy target…me. I know he wants revenge. Revenge for his brother's death, for his son's death…I figure if I give him the one target he wants then he will leave the rest of you alone," explained Nick, softly.

"Nick…," Connor began.

"My fight, my decision! If I need your help I will ask for it but until then I expect you to protect Mother. Agreed?"

Looking at him Connor could see the stubborn set of his jaw and knew no amount of arguing would change his mind. Gruffly answering yes Connor stared into the fire. Until he could think of another way for Nick to lure Masters out, Connor would have to adhere to Nick's plan. He wasn't happy about Nick setting himself up as a target but he would support him just as he always had.

Setting his glass down on the side table Nick stood, "Time for me to turn in, I have a few things to do tomorrow and need to get an early start, night Connor."

"Night Nick," Connor replied absently, his mind preoccupied with what Nick had told him.

Draining the last of his whiskey Connor stood, walking over to the fireplace. Grabbing the poker he banked the fire still brooding over the problem of Masters and Nick's foolhardy plan. Gathering his glass and Nick's Connor took them both to the kitchen before heading upstairs to his bed by the backstairs. He knew that he would not get much sleep tonight but decided that a sleepless night would be a small price to pay for keeping Nick safe.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Nick reined Satan in, patting the stallion's neck in affection before dismounting. Dropping the reigns across Satan's neck Nick allowed the stallion to roam, knowing that he would not go more than a few yards from him. Nick looked at the campsite. _'It could be just a drifter,'_ he thought kneeling next to the ashes. Pulling his glove off he picked some of them up, rubbing them between his fingers to test for warmth. _'Cold. But not too cold. Whoever was_ _camped here left this morning.'_ Standing up slowly Nick looked at the natural layout of the campsite. _'Back and sides are covered by rocks. Good view of who is coming in. You can see them before they see you. Yep, whoever camped here has been on the run before,'_ Nick decided. Walking around the perimeter of the camp Nick noticed that there were no hoofprints other than his. _'Wiped the area clean.'_

Stopping near one of the large boulders Nick leaned back on it deep in thought. While one part of his mind was running down a list of possible destinations of his mysterious camper, another part was systematically comparing the visual data about the campsite. Moving away from the boulder Nick walked toward a small space in between two boulders. No one else would have noticed anything out of place here but Nick new intimately every stone, crevice and blade of grass on Barkley property and whatever in that space was not part of his memory. Looking at it closer Nick noticed it looked like a piece of oilskin. Reaching for the space Nick pulled on the protruding piece freeing it from its hiding place.

Turning the small package over in his hands he untied it opening it to reveal its contents. A letter addressed to him was the first thing he saw. Newspaper articles featuring members of his family were the next thing he saw. And finally a Ranger star was the last thing he saw. Picking up the letter he began to read.

_Barkley, _

_I see you found the little package I left for you. I figured that I would let you know what I am planning on doing before I do it. You see I am not interested in killing you immediately. No, not at all. First I want you to suffer like you have made me suffer. I want you to know how it feels to lose someone you love and not be able to do anything to stop it! _

_Now I am sure you are wondering which member of your fine family I plan on killing first. Will it be the lawyer? It would be so easy to shoot him as he walks to his office in the morning._

_The bastard? I could do you a favor by getting rid of him. This way you wouldn't have to share your Daddy's money with him._

_Your baby brother? It would be so easy to kill him while he is attending school._

_Your lovely sister? That one I may just enjoy for while before I kill her, she is such a pretty little thing._

_Your mother? She is a pretty woman too. Now that she is spreading her legs for that partner of yours I am sure she wouldn't mind doing the same for me. _

_Or will it be your partner? Which do you think it will be? Well, let me tell you so this way you can try to save them. I think it will be. No Barkley, I've changed my mind I don't think I will tell you. Will you be able to protect all of them, all the time? Are you that good? _

_Good luck in trying. You're going to need it._

_Masters._

Enraged, Nick shoved the letter and clippings back into the oilskin before striding over to Satan and swinging up onto his back. Slapping the reigns against the stallion's flanks Nick urged him into a gallop heading to the house.

Audra walked out of the milliner shop pleased with her purchases. The fabrics that she picked would make wonderful dresses for some of the younger girls at the orphanage. The heavy cotton would make good shirts and pants for the older boys. The shoes and boots she had ordered for the children arrived today along with a number of pre-made dresses and pants. She was glad she had brought along the buckboard instead of riding Midnight into town. This way she would be able to deliver the items to the orphanage and pick up the supplies for Silas.

Hitching her skirt up, she made sure that her pants did not show underneath, she climbed up onto the buckboard. Her brothers would give her hell if she appeared in town wearing pants. Although to be honest, she couldn't see what the big deal was, they were just pants. She had worn their hand-me-down pants around the ranch most of her life so she didn't see why she couldn't wear them into town. It wasn't as if she were riding into town naked. That would really get her hell! Smiling at the thought of how her brothers would react to that she flicked the reins and headed to the train depot.

Pulling up to the depot Audra jumped down form the buckboard. Walking inside she waited for smiled at Nate.

"Hello Nate, are those mine?" Audra asked pointing to the three medium size crates that sat on the floor.

"Yes, Miss Audra this here is yours," Nate answered. "Would you like me to load them up for ya or are ya gonna get your brothers to pick them up?"

"Could you load them for me Nate? I am going to deliver them to the Sisters on my way home."

"Sure 'enuff, Miss Audra," answered Nate. Grabbing the baggage cart, Nate loaded all three crates onto it before wheeling it out to the dock. Seeing the buckboard next to the dock, Nate loaded the crates into it securing them with a rope for the drive to the orphanage. "There ya are Miss Audra…loaded and secure for ya."

"Thank you Nate," Audra replied as she climbed up onto the drivers seat. "Have a good day."

"You too, Miss Audra," Nate replied. "And be careful," he reminded her as she drove away.

Waving in response Audra turned the buckboard around heading to the orphanage then home.

Audra hummed as she drove the buckboard back to the ranch. The children had been thrilled with new clothes and shoes while the sisters had been enamored of the new school texts and books for the library. She had noted that a few items had been missing from the shipment. Making a mental list she had assured Mother Superior that they would have everything they needed to begin preparing the older children for boarding school.

Flicking the reins gently Audra urged the team into a smooth trot hoping to beat the approaching rain that threatened. 'I should have left a bit earlier,' she admonished herself. Feeling the wind begin to pick up, Audra knew she would not make it home before the rain began. Pulling the horses to a stop she jumped down from the buckboard. Reaching under the seat she pulled the rain slicker out from its hiding spot, pleased that Nick had demanded that all the Barkley buckboards and carriages carry the oilskins. Slipping the large slicker on Audra climbed back onto the buckboard tucking the slicker around her she flicked the reins urging the horses into a smooth trot once again. Moments later she was glad that she had taken the time to stop and put on the slicker as the rain began.

Nick reined in Satan. The rain had begun an hour ago. What had begun as a soft drizzle was now a torrential downpour obscuring everything. Knowing that it was futile to continue tracking Masters in this weather Nick wheeled Satan around heading back to the house.

Riding in pouring rain was difficult for any rider even an experienced one like Nick. Chancing Satan's safety was not something that Nick did willingly so rather than ride him the full way back to the house Nick dismounted, walking the horse and himself home.

Audra knew the futility of traveling any further, the road was muddy increasing the chances of the wheels getting stuck. Between the chance of stuck wheels and the possibility of the horses getting injured Audra knew that she would have to stop. Luck though was on her side, she was less than a half mile from the old mine, its entrance was large enough for her to unhitch and stable the horses there. And if her luck held out she would even be able to light a fire to dry herself out.

Masters stood in the entrance of the old mine watching the rain as it poured down. It had postponed but not canceled his quest for revenge. Moving away from the entrance Masters walked back to the fire. Pouring himself a cup of coffee he added a bit of sugar before sitting down. Sipping at the hot liquid he settled back against his saddle imagining the look on Barkley's face when he exacted his revenge.

Wiping the rain from his face Nick stopped. At the rate he was going he would never make if back to the ranch tonight. He needed shelter; he was wet and cold as was Satan. Nick turned left heading to the old abandoned mine. It was large enough to afford him and Satan shelter. If he was lucky the men would have made sure that a cord of wood had been stored under the overhang. If it had been he would have a roaring fire to dry off near. Mounting Satan Nick urged the stallion forward, the promise of a warm dry mine foremost in his thoughts.


End file.
